Reynar Arkin, Prime Sentinel
by King Henry the V
Summary: First story in the MDR series. A young man awakes to discover that he has been transformed into something that should only have existed in the movies. Coauthored by the Monster of Cookies.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is the first story in a series I have subtitled "MDR" (Marvel Done Right). The series will mostly use canon characters with a new spin, though a few originals will appear. Marvel Comics owns the copyrights, and special thanks to the Cody, Monster of Cookies.

The world came into focus all wrong. Color did not seem to exist, while light levels were merely a footnote. There was ... a crosshair. No, two crosshairs. They seemed to float in the air, distantly in line with his forearms. Informational text also floated in the air.

Systems:Integrity, 98

Central Processor, 100

Guidance System, 100

Plasma Generators, 100

Auto-Repair, 57

Adaptive Defense Field, 100

(Electromagnetism)

Glasses. He must have been wearing glasses. His hands came up immediately to ... no. Nothing was on his face. That could not be. The air suddenly felt heavy.

"He's coming to," said a voice from just out of his field of vision.

Someone stepped in front of him. He was an older man, perhaps in his sixties. New text identified him as Erik Lehnsherr, a.k.a. Magneto. In parentheses was a familiar word: electromagnetism.

"Welcome to Avalon, friend. How do you feel?"

"Dizzy."

"That will pass," Erik informed him. The elderly man approached the side of what was apparently a hospital bed. "Do you remember your name?"

"Reynar Arkin. Ryan." Had Erik called the place Avalon? "Am I dead?"

Erik kindly smiled. "No. You are still quite alive, thanks to the Brotherhood."

If the name 'Magneto' had not rung any warning bells in the back Ryan's head, the word 'Brotherhood' did. "The terrorists."

"Such a harsh word." As the dizziness started to fade, Ryan was able to pick up on Erik's European accent. He sounded cultured and intelligent, not at all the hateful man the Media portrayed. "The truth is, young Ryan, that the Brotherhood of Mutants is simply a name for my kind. Ordinary humans who have been born with extraordinary Gifts. We are the future of mankind, and for that they fear us."

Erik sounded reasonable, but Ryan was no naïve enough to be swayed by a short speech. "What do you want with me?" That was when Ryan noticed his own voice. He sounded odd, almost mechanical. There was something odder going on than the fact that his vision looked like a scene from the _Terminator_ movie.

"It isn't what I want," Erik explained. "The same people who fear the Brotherhood have taken away your humanity to turn you into a weapon. They probably disguised the procedure in the form of a routine checkup or a vaccination."

Ryan shook his head. That could not be. "I would remember being knocked out and having my innards repl ... Bastion."

The kind, elderly man's suddenly flashed in anger. For a moment, Ryan thought Erik would destroy Ryan and the entire room. Then the moment passed. "We have suspected he was the true enemy for a long time. Tell me, child, how do you know Bastion?"

"It was two years ago," Ryan recalled. His sophomore year of high school had been an emotional year, starting with his first pair of glasses. "He told me that if he implanted a prosthetic lens, I would have good enough vision to join the Air Force. I was unconscious for the entire procedure."

Erik glanced at someone else in the room, then turned his attention back to Ryan. "Bastion turned you into a hybrid of man and machine called a 'Prime Sentinel.' You are fortunate that I was the first Mutant you encountered. With my Mutant Gifts, I was able to prevent the Sentinel from over-writing your mind.

"Rest easy, child. For as long as you require, you are welcome to remain on Avalon. I built this island to serve as a safe haven for those that the world would cast out. Now, it is your home as well. If you'll excuse me, Toad will see to your needs." Erik left the room with a sweep of majesty that ended with a snap of his cape.

Toad was a green-skinned human who liked to crouch. The text named him Mortimer Toynbee. "You're the second Prime Sentinel we 'ave," Toad said in a cockney accent. "The Sentin'l CPU responds to thought commands, it does. Until you get used to thinkin' to the computer chip in your brain, it helps to say the commands out loud. T' switch off the CPU, jus' say 'Sentinel: Standby.'"

"Sentinel: Standby." The moment Ryan said the words, the room reverted to normal hues. He was seeing the world with human eyes. For the first time, Ryan noticed the room was made entirely of polished chrome. It was a strange sight. "Thank you." His voice was his again. Ryan would have leapt for joy, but it was all he could do to sit up.

Toad did a regular checkup and took note of Ryan's systems data. The 98 integrity was, Toad explained, because the CPU had lost the capacity for mind control. Ryan's damaged auto-repair system would still let him recover from any light wound, but it was incapable of fixing any damage to his nervous system. In other words, he would heal faster than an ordinary person – though he would not be able to recover from a wound that would kill or cripple a human.

The Adaptive Defense Field worked something like the Borg shield in _Star Trek_. Ryan only had to be exposed to a Gift once to become immune to it – if the gift did not kill him.

His other system, the Plasma Generators, powered an offensive beam weapon. The floating crosshairs meant he would have incredible accuracy, once he learned how to use them.

"Can the Plasma Generators doing anything else?" Ryan had to ask. He wanted to be more than just a living weapon. Sure, he had been about to become a fighter pilot. There was a lot for pilots to enjoy beyond combat, such as flying. That was why he had applied to the Academy in the first place.

"Some Prime Sentin'ls can fly," Toad mused. "The Plasma Generators might be the part that makes it possible, but I'm the wrong bloke to ask." He paused, unsure what to tell him. "I suggest you speak to Ginny Mahoney. You can find her with your Guidance System. Jus' say, 'Sentinel: Power On.' When the Guidance System is active, locate Sentinel Unit #1301."

The steel castle's outer wall served as a walkway for the occupants' enjoyment. Few scattered towers were stairwells, rather than defensive turrets. On one side of the wall was the Atlantic Ocean. On the other side was a bailey that appeared to be a wooded village, the suburbs of Avalon.

Ginny was a leggy brunette who loved the sunset. The orange light glistened off her skin as she leaned over the railing, as attractive as she found the view. Waves crashed against the wall with a sound that was muted by Avalon's unnatural architecture.

"So you are #1301," Ryan said, allowing his eyes to wander. When she turned, he was sure to make eye contact. "I'm Ryan."

"Number 1327." At Ryan's raised brow, she added, "I learned how to bypass the CPU and directly access my Gifts. Over time, you will, too."

"That's not it." Ryan's attention wandered to the sunset as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "It's just strange to have my identity boiled down to a number." As he spoke, he remembered that the Government had done the same thing. At least a Social Security Number was longer than four digits. Not that it mattered. Bastion worked for the same Government, and he had effectively stolen Ryan's life. The United States would never again be his home. He could never trust a place that betrayed him to such an extent.

"I know how you feel." Ginny propped herself up on the railing and gave him a wistful smile. Her eyes revealed a story that was even more painful than Ryan's. She kept that story to herself, for the time being. "Ms. Voght is our resident therapist, if you need someone to talk to. It is ironic that Mutants like her understand what we went through better than most humans."

Ryan wanted to ask Ginny to explain, but his only reason was to maintain the conversation. The truth was that he would rather not think about the past – or the future, for that matter. "Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked, instead. Before she could answer, he added, "I need the company."

She studied his face before she answered, even though she had already decided. His emotions interested her. Curiosity, and maybe something else, filled Ginny as she hopped off the rail. "Of course," she said, only compassion in her voice.

Ryan turned away and started to walk along the castle wall. Every fiber of his being was focused on the moment. He desperately needed to forget everything, and the presence of a pretty woman was a big help. So long as he did not look at or speak with her. He took comfort in her company, up until they came full circle and reached the spot they had met. Ginny excused herself and left; she must have finally lost patience with the kid who was too numb to speak.

Everything he had learned up until that moment told Ryan that the pain would never go away. He was always going to hate Bastion, and he was always going to hate the country of his birth. Ryan scoffed; it was almost as if he wanted the hate to just go away. Regardless, the world continued to turn. He just had to figure out how he was going to live with that.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone was gathered in the Commissary to watch the Press Conference. Dr. Val Cooper, the President's advisor on Mutant Affairs, was supposed to speak about the underground project that had created the Prime Sentinels. Ryan and Ginny were at the front of the room, more anxious than anyone else on Avalon to hear what she had to say. Dr. Cooper was a blonde woman in her forties who carried a weight on her shoulders. She was known for her views on Mutant Rights and outright hostility towards the Sentinel program of the Nineties.

"My fellow Americans," she began. "Seven years ago, the unsanctioned Mutant Registration Agency created a terrible weapon with the sole purpose of harming Americans: the Sentinel. It was a weapon controlled by murderers who decided that certain individuals no longer had the right to live, just because they were born different. The God-given Gifts of a few innocent people made them targets of the Mutant Registration Agency and their Sentinel hound. With the help of a none-for-profit civilian agency, the Agency was shut down for good. Yet even though the prototype was destroyed, the Sentinel lived on." Dr. Cooper paused amidst the flash of cameras. It was difficult to keep her emotions in check, as she went from a painful subject to one that was even worse.

"Yesterday morning, an international strike force raided a compound owned by Bastion, advisor to the Senate Committee on Mutant Affairs. In this compound, the strike force found working models of the next generation of Sentinel: the Prime Sentinel. These are killing machines capable of disguising themselves as ordinary humans."

Ryan tuned her out. Magneto had learned the truth about the Prime Sentinels many months ago, and Ryan found it difficult to believe that the United States Government was ignorant. Their official position on the matter was denial. He snorted in a huff, then walked out of the Commissary. Now all that remained was to find out what Magneto was going to do about it.

Dominic Petros – or Avalanche, as he preferred – was one of the more influential Mutants on Avalon. Not only was he Avalon's unofficial sheriff, but he had also helped Magneto create the artificial island. When Ryan found him, Avalanche was in the Keep's Great Hall. He had a smug expression on his face that seemed plastered in place. "What do you want, kid?" Avalanche asked in a slight Greek accent.

"Justice" was the first word that came to mind. For some reason, Ryan kept it to himself. "Did you see the Press Conference?" There. He managed to speak without the anger reaching his voice. So much was beneath the surface that Ryan was amazed by his own willpower.

"Of course. Why do you think we have all these TVs?" Avalanche indicated flat-screen televisions strategically placed around the Hall. "It's about time SHIELD took on Bastion and his cyborgs."

Ryan opened his mouth, but the question cut itself short. He hardly cared what 'SHIELD' was. What he wanted to know was, "Why would they lie about Prime Sentinels?"

Avalanche questioned Ryan's sanity with a look. The reason Avalanche held no official title on Avalon was his arrogance, even though he often had the knowledge and power to back it up. "Why would the Government lie about Indians? Use your brain, kid. If the problem doesn't exist, no one has to deal with it."

The answer was the worst thing Ryan had feared, something so evil he could not put it into words. Now his fears were reality. Not only had the Government destroyed his life, but they were also denying him the possibility of ever going home. If anyone found out he was a Prime Sentinel, they would assume he was nothing but a well-designed killing machine – which was about as true as saying the same about every trained soldier around the globe. "What is the Brotherhood going to do about it?"

"The same thing we have been doing," Avalanche responded matter-of-factly. "Fight Bastion at every turn. It is our responsibility to protect people with Gifts from monsters like him."

"So people like me get left in the dust?" Ryan snapped. He stormed out of the Hall, ignoring Avalanche's shrug. The Brotherhood had already risked their necks to help Ryan. Did he really expect them to do so again?

The matter really came down to the fact that Ryan's problem was the creation of a madman, while Mutants were a result of natural evolution. If the Brotherhood was unwilling to help, then Ryan need to find another ally. A name quickly came to mind.

There was always one spot that found Ginny at sunset. It was the same place along the outer wall that Ryan had first met her. For one reason or another, he no longer noticed how attractive she was in the dimming light. Despite everything that had happened today, she was still able to just stand there.

"We need to announce ourselves to the world," Ryan said by way of greeting. "The public has to know that what Bastion is doing is worse than they can possibly imagine."

Ginny hid the bulk of her reaction, but annoyance still managed to show through. "Why?" she demanded. "Did you stop to think about this from anyone else's point of view? What do you think will happen if the public finds out? Sunny skies and red roses? There is going to be panic like you've never seen." She went on and on to describe a virtual Armageddon that would take place if Ryan revealed the truth. It was the end of the world, as she described it.

"Fine," Ryan finally said. His tone was determined, rather than defeated – Ginny's first sign of what Ryan had planned. "If that's the only alternative, I'll find another way to deal. You really aren't going to do anything about this?"

Ginny shook her head. "It no longer matters how we received our Gifts, Ryan. Actions define us; Bastion does not." She wanted Ryan to listen, but she saw that he barely heard. Ginny turned back to the sunset without any idea how to get through to the one person who should have been most like her.

For his part, Ryan was fed up. Something was wrong with the world, and no one seemed to care. It was not even a question of who knew the truth. People with power knew what was really going on. Ginny had said words to the effect that people were judged by their actions. The Government chose their course, and the time had come for judgment. If the Brotherhood chose to stand idly, then Ryan needed to act.

Washington. There were too many Government agencies for all of them to have headquarters in the city itself. Nearby towns in Virginia and Maryland were also targets. The only question was which to pick first. Ryan scratched the unshaved stubble on his chin. To think he had once looked upon those sites in awe.

Weeks had gone by since the Press Release on Bastion's underground operation. 'Zero Tolerance,' Bastion called it. No one on Avalon had the guts to do anything about the lies surrounding Operation: Zero Tolerance, so Ryan was forced to show the world what 'Zero Tolerance' really meant. That meant goodbye to Washington.

There were several groups capable of stopping a Prime Sentinel. The first danger was another Prime Sentinel, but OZT had other concerns than a rogue attack on the United States capital. Next was SHIELD, the international agency charged with stopping OZT. As a Prime Sentinel, Ryan had access to the network of orders given to all the others of his kind – even if they could not take control of him. He _knew_ that OZT and SHIELD were currently engaged elsewhere. The only real threat to Ryan was the X-Men, a group of vigilantes dedicated to the protection of humans and Mutants from each other. And Prime Sentinels were specifically designed to counter the X-Men.

"Sentinel: Power On." With the words, the Sentinel processor switched on. His entire body changed. Skin became a shade of grey, and his hair turned auburn. Eyes were now glowing orbs that viewed the world as a computerized war machine. Plasma Generators produced a stream of energy that lifted Ryan into the air and towards Washington, D.C.

Ryan flew until he had arrived at the Washington monument and its reflection pool. There, he circled the monument once before deciding to land atop its point. He gazed out over the landscape and laughed to himself. There were so many symbols to destroy; it would be easy to break the spirit of the Americans and their façade of a government.

He stepped off the edge of the monument and glided down the side on jets of plasma. Near the base he turned and faced the monument. He lifted his hands slowly, and with a scream mixed with rage and frustration he fired blue balls of plasma through the base of the towering monument. As it started to fall Ryan quickly flew underneath it and grabbed the structure before it hit the ground. His jets fired again and he lifted the structure airborne.

Ryan grunted as he hefted the monument through the sky. His eyes zoomed in to watch it fly through the air towards its target. When it finally smashed into the dome of the capital building, Ryan silently chuckled. A quick scan of the building revealed no casualties; he wanted everyone to see what was going to happen.

Having sent the first message, Ryan now turned his attention towards the city's infrastructure; specifically, he turned his attention towards the exits of the city. He flew towards the outskirts of D.C., and bridge after bridge and road after road crumbled before his plasma blasts. No one would be leaving until he had his say.

His focus now turned towards the White House. Now that he had people's attention it would be time to do something really drastic. He flew towards Pennsylvania Avenue at blazing speeds, blasting somewhat random targets as he flew: roads, buildings, parked cars. Carnage and mayhem were his only allies.

Ryan came to a dead stop just outside his target. The opposition had arrived as he had expected. What he did not expect was the floating man in front of him and the group of people behind him. He fired a bolt of plasma at the man, but a manhole lid quickly deflected the blast.

"Why are you protecting them?!" Ryan demanded, furious beyond all reason. "They made you an outcast! They stole my life! And now the monsters in that house deny _both_ our existence. You should be helping me." The finality and conviction of his tone even surprised Ryan, but he had gone too far to reconsider. He was in the right. "How many more lives will they destroy before someone makes them pay?" By this time, the Press had arrived on the scene. Their cameras and microphones picked up everything Ryan said. He ignored them.

Magneto slowly shook his head. When he spoke, it was with more compassion and charisma than Ryan could muster. He was the kind of man who could have convinced the Catholic Pope to support homosexuality, if not for the fear and anger his Gifts wrought. "Humanity will always fear what it does not understand. Today, you only give them more reasons to fear you. The Government has made no move against you; give them the benefit of the doubt."

"They don't deserve it!"

"Everyone deserves a chance at life, child. That is one of the ideals the Brotherhood represents." Magneto paused, and his tone became threatening. "If you persist, I will have no choice but to do everything in my power to stop you."

Ryan sneered; he was still immune to Magneto's Gifts and harbored no doubts as to the outcome of the battle. "Then you fight on the wrong side." He attacked with everything he had.

While Magneto could not use his Gifts directly on the Prime Sentinel, there were other objects in the area. He quickly formed a shield of metal to deflect Ryan's plasma blasts. Ryan continued towards him slowly, letting his cry of frustration ring through the streets of D.C. Magneto pulled the fence from the White House and quickly began wrapping it around Ryan's body. Ryan's cries of frustration quickly turned to cries of protest. Toad, who stood just behind and to the left of Magneto, chanced a nervous glance up towards his leader. Avalanche was to Magneto's right and simply smirked as the fight quickly turned towards Magneto's favor. Ginny was nowhere to be found.

Finally, Ryan collapsed to the ground and his screams could be heard no more. Magneto's gaze dropped to the ground in recognition of the loss in life. Was Ryan's thirst for vengeance his fault? He saw the mangled body, crushed by the security fence that once surrounded the White House, and he grimaced.

Gunshots caught Magneto's attention, and he raised the magnetic shield that protected him. Humans and their guns. Better to ignore them.

A group of reporters still stood filming across the street. Magneto decided someone needed to explain what had just happened. The reporters started to get nervous when he approached, so Magneto held up a hand in peace. "I have a statement," he announced, relocating the security fence to keep them from escaping. "The man who was killed today was not a terrorist, but a victim. He was a victim of Operation: Zero Tolerance and a victim of the United States Government.

"The Government elected not to divulge the truth about Prime Sentinels to the public. Perhaps they did not know themselves, or perhaps they wanted to protect the American People from the atrocities committed by Bastion. Their reasons are irrelevant." Magneto explained the origins of the Prime Sentinels to shocked cameramen and reporters who were too afraid to move or ask questions. Whenever one of them seemed to muster up the courage, a glare from Magneto stopped the reporter cold.

"Today will be the last time you hear me use the word 'Mutant.' Some people have Gifts that are beyond what ordinary people can do. After what has happened to me, I have learned that it does not matter how their Gifts were acquired. The Brotherhood will protect the lives and freedom of all the Gifted in this world, whether they were born with Gifts or their bodies raped by madmen like Bastion."

The reporters looked to be gaining their courage. Magneto's words would have to speak for themselves; Ryan had opened his eyes, and there was so much to do.


End file.
